


Tomboy

by The_Whip_Hand_81



Category: Jeremy Renner - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Bar Fight, Crass reader, F/M, Insecurities, Jeremy is brother's best friend, Paul is your brother, Reader Insert, Reader is not lady-like, Sex, Somewhat Fluffy, Tomboy, Tomboys are sexy too, angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 17:54:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10791717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Whip_Hand_81/pseuds/The_Whip_Hand_81
Summary: You have always been a tomboy, never showed any signs of wanting to relate to the female of the species. Until your brother's best friend makes your insecurities clear, making you challenge yourself and helps you turn into someone you're not.(I swear the story is better than the summary lol)





	Tomboy

**Author's Note:**

> Pictures are here:
> 
> https://flic.kr/p/U6Wj3v

You pull off your muddy work boots, letting them drop onto the mat by the front door as you exhale the arduous day’s labor. You work at a small farm that doubles as a petting zoo for school children. Your job requires you to feed chickens, chase escaping pigs through the mud should they get out of their pen, help the visiting school children milk the cows and shovel loads of horse crap away from the pony trail. Not a glamorous job, but you enjoy it nonetheless. You love to get dirt on your hands, hay in your hair and caked up mud on your boots - you see the mud as a badge of honor for your hard work and dedication. 

You pull off your dirty baggy jeans and flannel shirt and put it on a pile on the floor by your boots. Standing in your oversized holey white shirt and your ex’s red boxer shorts, you pick up the mail that was slid under your door earlier in the day. You flip through them, seeing only bills and sigh. You hear a pair of male voices in your apartment hallway, fussing about something but ignore it. Suddenly, there’s a knock on your door. 

“What do you want?” the lackluster way you always greet uninvited visitors. 

“[Y/N], it’s Paul. Jeremy is with me. Open up.” Those voices you hear are of your older brother, Paul, and his childhood best friend, Jeremy, also like a brother to you just grumpier. 

“UGH!” you groan out loud before opening the door with an unamused face, greeting them in your underclothes. You swing open the door, “What?” 

Paul and Jeremy’s faces of disgust at your haggard appearance greet you in return. Paul shudders, “Jesus, [Y/N] put some clothes on.” 

“I didn’t know I had a dress code to live in my apartment,” you snidely retort as you let them in, “What do you want?”

Jeremy sarcastically says, “And a hello to you, too.” 

Paul walks over to your couch and proceeds to sit down when you plead, “Don’t sit down, don’t sit down, don’t - you sat down.” Jeremy sits at the other end of the couch with a smile. 

You pout, almost whining, “Why are you here, Paul? I want to take a shower already.” 

“Well,” Paul leans forward, “it seems that Jessica has broken up with me again. This morning...by email.” 

You balk at his response, “.....THIS is why you’re here? Because your whore of a girlfriend dumped you?”

“Hey! Your brother is feeling a bit emotional right now. Do you mind not trampling on his already delicate ego? Have some compassion for once,” Jeremy asks. 

You shoot Jeremy daggers as you sit beside your brother, rubbing a consoling hand on his shoulder as he holds his head up with his hands, “I’m sorry, big brother. You’re better off without that cock-tease, Jessica. You’re not missing anything on her, she was likely riddled with hundreds of diseases and smelled like a skank on a shopping spree at the perfume counter at Macy’s.” 

Jeremy speaks up, his voice turned up, “Who the Hell are you to judge Jessica when you’re the one sitting here in your dingy underwear smelling like a pig’s asshole?” 

“Hey! That girl had trouble written all over her from jump! Wasn’t she the one who cheated on Paul last year? And wasn’t she the one who invited some other dude to her sister’s wedding instead of her own boyfriend just two months ago? Oh, and how can I forget the time she said she couldn’t attend our grandmother’s funeral because she was sick only to see she posted pictures of herself at the beach with her friends later that night? So, excuse me for being a little protective of my brother.” 

“You know what your problem is? You’re bitter,” an agitated Jeremy blurts. 

“Bitter? HA! From what?” you scoff. 

Paul shakes his head, “Guys, lets not get into this right now.” 

You wave him off, “No, no, I want to hear what Mr. Therapist has to say about my so called bitterness. Go ahead, Jeremy, analyze me,” you cross your arms over your chest. 

Paul insists, “Please don’t, Jeremy,” his pleas go ignored.

He stands up with a knowing smirk, “Okay. You’re bitter because you’re all alone and have no one to talk to. You’ve always been jealous of Jessica because she’s got it all: looks, smarts, a banging body and she actually LOOKS like a woman.” 

“What the fuck is THAT suppose to mean?” you snap, stepping up to his face. 

Jeremy looks down on you, holding his own, “You know what I mean. Just look at ya. You’re a mess. You’re always a Goddamn mess. In all the years I’ve known you since you were a kid, there never was a day where you looked clean or presentable.” 

“Is that so? Been watching what I wear, huh? What are you, the fashion police? Oh, wait, no, you’re just a dick. Get the fuck outta my house, Jeremy, and take this loser with you,” you walk toward the door. 

“You’re angry because I speak the truth,” he walks over to the door with a depressed Paul behind him. 

“Keep telling yourself that,” you exhale, annoyed. 

Once outside the apartment, Jeremy turns to look at your underclothes, gesturing to it, “And you keep telling yourself that he’s coming back for those. See how that goes for ya.” 

You slam the door in their faces and lock it. Leaning against the door, you look down at your underclothes that use to belong to your ex. A sob escapes your mouth but you stifle yourself from anymore coming out. You walk to the bathroom and get in the shower, weeping at how alone you truly are. 

*

The next night, after another long grueling day of stacking hay and shoveling pony poop, you get home and give yourself a once over in the mirror. Jeremy’s words really stuck to you and you want to prove him wrong. Last night after getting out of that weeping shower session, you signed up for online dating and spent all night creating a profile and putting up pictures of yourself dressed for your cousin’s wedding two years ago. You don’t want to be alone any longer, you need to go back out there and start dating again...however that goes.

Looking yourself over, you are down to your ex’s boxers and overly big black t-shirt. You never wear makeup or style your hair other than putting it into a messy bun or pulling it back into a ponytail. Never wear jewelry nor any shoes that aren’t covered in dirt.

“I know I have nice clothes somewhere in this closet,” you swing open the closet door and rummage through, throwing things about and shoving hanging clothes aside, coming up empty. 

You slowly walk over to your bed, plopping down on the corner in a daze, “Holy crap...he’s right.” 

Across the room, your phone pings with a notification. You walk over and pick it up to see what it is. It’s a notification saying you have your first message from the dating site. You freeze up for a moment then read the email. It’s from a profile user named EvansChristopher69. 

It reads:   
Hey, CityFarmerGrl,   
I liked what I saw on your profile and thought you and I would greatly enjoy each other’s company. What do you say to a nice dinner date at Antonio’s this Saturday and get to know each other? Can’t wait to hear from you. -Chris

You check out his pictures and see that this Chris guy is a GOD: Tall, ridiculously muscular, brown hair slicked back, nicely trimmed beard, blue eyes and a killer smile. You cooly respond with “Sure, that’d be nice” and press send. You instantly panic, “WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST DO?!” 

You run around the house, arms flailing like a maniac, when there’s a knock on your door. You swing it open and see it’s Jeremy, hands shoved in his jeans pockets, a sheepish look on his face, “Hey, I’m sorry for what I -”

“HELP ME!” you grab him by his shirt collar and yank him inside your apartment, startling him. 

“WHOA! What the Hell [Y/N]!” he straightens his shirt, glaring at you. 

“You’ve gotta help me, Jeremy. I beg of you!” you plead with your hands clasped together. 

“Whoa, what happened?!” worry creases his face. 

“I’ve got a date Saturday night. I need you to help make me look...presentable.” 

The sudden worry on his face slowly turns fiendish and cocky, “Oh? A date, you say? And you need my help?” 

“Please, I really need this. I don’t know how to act ladylike or dress up or walk in heels -- I don’t know how to girl!” you plea. 

Jeremy strides over to your couch, sitting down with his ankle crossing over his knee, smug, “And why do you need my help? After all, you’re an independent woman of today. You’ve got plenty of suitors banging down your front door -” he bursts out laughing, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t keep a straight face with that one. But why should I help you after you so rudely threw me out of your house last night?” 

You sit on the coffee table in front of him, hands still clasped together with plea, “Because I have no female friends and you swear you know how a classy woman should dress and act so help me Goddammit!” 

A smile forms on his thin pink lips, “And what do I get out of helping you? What will you give me?” 

You gently get on your knees in front of Jeremy and place your hands on your knees, slowly separating his knees, his breath hitches as your voice turns low and sultry, “If you help me, I promise not to rip your dick off with my teeth.” 

Jeremy purses his lips and thinks about it, “Fair enough. Let’s get started.” 

**  
Jeremy spent all night in your apartment on your Pinterest account creating a board solely for dresses and feminine accessories, teaching you what would look good on you. In your search on your tablet, sitting beside Jeremy who is looking through fashion magazines, you pick a shimmery gold racerback dress with spaghetti straps. “This looks pretty okay,” you comment, showing him the picture on your tablet. 

He raises his brows then looks at you, “That actually is pretty nice. Good eye. See? You’ve got some good taste…” he shoots you a small smile. 

You lean forward and grab a cold slice of pizza, shoveling it into your mouth in one bite when Jeremy frowns, “Why do you have to eat like that?” 

You chew with your mouth open, “Like what?” 

“Like you were born on the farm you work on.” 

“How else am I supposed to eat pizza? It’s a food you eat with your hands!” 

“Yes, but you don’t have to eat it like Gollum from Lord of the Rings! Take sensible bites. This Chris guy is taking you to Antonio’s which is a very swanky place so mind your manners,” he retorts, annoyed then changes the subject, “All right, let me see this guy you’re going out with. Show me who I’m trying to impress here.” 

You quickly log onto your dating site account and show him the profile on your tablet. You hand it to him and watch his face closely. You have really put all your faith in Jeremy’s opinions in the last several hours. Jeremy’s face is stoic as it always is as he reads the profile, he looks through several of the photos and groans slightly. 

“What? What is it?” you ask with worry. 

Jeremy hands you the tablet, exhaling, “We’re gonna have to pull out the big guns if you wanna impress this guy.”

“Yes, I do. I really do.” 

Jeremy nods to himself and stands up, “I’ll be back in a half hour,” and heads toward the door. 

“Wha-where are you going?” 

He stops to turn to you, “Getting the big guns.” 

**

Jeremy returns in 45 minutes with a shopping bag and spills the contents of the bag onto your bed: makeup. Liners, blushes, bronzers, lipsticks, lashes and brushes and eyeshadows scattered about the mattress. 

Your eyes bulge, “You actually went out and bought all this?” 

“No, I borrowed it from the hooker down the street. Yes, I went out and bought all this.” 

“But, you spent all that money just for me?” you look at Jeremy who seems to be blushing. 

He waves you off, “No, not just for you. I know some women who would probably take what you don’t want.” 

“Oh,” sounding a bit disappointed with the mention of other women in his life for some reason, “Okay, so, uuuuh, what do I do with all this? It’s like a freaking chemistry set. I won’t know what I’m doing!” 

“Sit,” he gestures for you to sit on the corner of the bed as he set up a makeshift makeup station on your dresser. He sits on the bed, turned facing you with a pencil in his hand, quietly studying your face. You sit quietly (and a little awkwardly) watching him study every fine line and blemish on your face. 

“What are you looking for?” you ask in a small voice. 

“Not looking for anything…..just realizing how decent your skin actually is…” he takes your chin in his thumb and forefinger and tilts your head every which way for the lighting to hit it. He smirks, “Must be all those mud bathes you take at work.” 

He brings the pencil to your forehead and you flinch a bit, “What is that for?” 

“Simmer down. It’s only a brow pencil, it fills out the gaps in your eyebrows to make them appear bolder and fuller,” he gently flicks the pencil across both your brows. 

“Oh.”

Jeremy places the pencil on the dresser and picks up another, bringing it toward your mouth when you flinch again. “Another pencil?” 

“Relax! It’s lipliner. Jeez, you act like I have a syringe in my hand with all the flinching you’re doin’.” 

“Sorry.” 

Jeremy gently presses the lip liner onto your lip and traces your outline, his eyes concentrating on the bow of your lip. Your stomach feels like there’s something swimming around in it, maybe you’re just nervous for the date in 48 hours? 

He places the liner down and picks up a lipstick but, before applying it, he reassures you, “This is called ‘lipstick’ [Y/N].” 

You chuckle, playfully shoving him, “Shut the fuck up.” 

He applies the dark nude lip color, “Uh uh, language, my little Eliza Doolittle.” 

Once the lipstick is applied, he takes a tube of mascara and carefully strokes the brush onto your lashes. After he is done, Jeremy looks at your face one more time before exclaiming, “Beautiful!” 

You stand up and look at your reflection, “Oh...nice…” 

Jeremy stands up and packs the makeup back into the shopping bag, “Brows. Lashes. Lips. Frame the face, it’s simple. It’s five minutes.” 

“Don’t I need like concealer or foundation or whatever?” you study your face closer to the mirror. 

“Nah, you have pretty skin. You don’t need all that gunk on your face.” 

“Thanks. How do you know all this?” you shoot him a bashful smile. 

“Being an older brother to a handful of sisters taught me a few things about what the female species have to deal with in terms of date night and such. And, you’re welcome,” he looks away and clears his throat, “Say, uh, when do you want to go shopping for a dress? I’m off tomorrow. I can take ya.” 

“Really? You’d come with me?” 

“Yeah, sure, why not? I’m in this deep. At this point, I’m sorta like your fairy godfather.” 

“Well, you got the fairy part right.” 

“Shut up,” he throws a pillow at you. 

***  
Jeremy drives you downtown to several boutiques and shopping strips to find the perfect dress for Saturday. During the drive, Jeremy asks you point blank, “Do you have any ‘date underwear’?” 

“Huh?” you turn to look at him, perplexed at the phrase. 

“You know, ‘date underwear’. Sexy bra and panties you would like to get fucked in,” he nonchalantly explains. 

“Do I look like the type of woman to have those at the ready, Jeremy? This is why you’re helping me.” 

“Okay. That’s the first stop.” 

“What is?”

“Bra and panty shopping.”   
You swallow hard as you stare out the passenger window at the embarrassing thought of Jeremy in a lingerie store with you. 

Inside a Victoria’s Secret store, you uncomfortably wander the displays of lacy bras and ruffled panties. Jeremy approaches you with a basket of bras he has already chosen for you. 

“Here,” he shoves the basket into your arms, “try these on.” 

“How do you know these will fit me?” 

“Because I’ve seen your bras strewn around your apartment on more than one occasion, you slob. Now go try those on and tell me if they fit you. I’ll be waiting right outside the dressing room.” Jeremy walks away from you and you enter the dressing room. 

You try on several bras; no wire, no straps, underwire, and one lacy black underwire you just can’t seem to close properly. A store assistant knocks on your door upon hearing your loud cursing. 

“Ma’am? Do you need my help in there?” she sweetly asks.

“Um, no, no thanks. I think I..can manage - FUCK!” you snap the waistband onto your skin. 

“Let me get you some help. I’ll ask your brother to come in and help you then,” the sales assistant says as she walks away. 

You stop fiddling with the bra and think out loud, “My brother isn’t here,” then it clicks. She means Jeremy. You holler through the door in a panic, “NO NO NO NO-!” 

There’s a knock on your dressing room door and the door knob turns, Jeremy pleasantly saying to the sales assistant, “Thank you for letting me help her. She’s a bit challenged sometimes.” He walks into your small room with a broad smile seeing you clutching your faded Led Zeppelin shirt over the bra in horror. “I can help you, sis!” he says too loudly so the assistant can hear as he closes the door behind him. 

“What the Hell, Jeremy! Get out!” you whisper. 

“Relax. I’ve seen breasts before. Let me see the problem.” 

You slowly bring the tshirt down and show him, his eyes squint at your breasts as if he’s sizing them up. He turns your body around without saying a word and makes you face the mirror. Jeremy looks at the back and sees the clasps are all on the wrong rows and fixes it. He then looks over your shoulder at your reflection in the mirror, brings his hands around and grabs your breasts, lifting them. 

“HEY!” you yelp in surprise.   
“Calm down, woman. I’m not copping a feel, I’m adjusting them,” he says as he continues to ‘fluff’ your boobs from behind. “Look at these bad boys! I bet you never seen them this high before, am I right?” he asks proud of himself. 

“Uh, nope, can’t say that I have. Okay, can you please stop now?” 

Jeremy takes his hands off of your breasts and unclasps the bra. You spin around, desperately holding them close to you, “I GOT THIS! You can leave now, thanks.” 

Jeremy’s lip curls up one end as his blue eyes looks down at your embarrassed face, “You’re cute when you get all flustered like that.” 

“Jeremy!” you stomp your foot. 

“We’re getting that bra,” he backs up out of the dressing room, leaving you with a damp spot on your boxers. 

Outside the dressing room, Jeremy leans against an underwear display, trying his hardest to avoid the erection tightening his jeans. 

****

Three hours of shopping throughout downtown, you finally found a near replica of the shiny gold dress and matching shoes you saved to your Pinterest board the other night. Back at your apartment, Jeremy pushes all the furniture in your living room to the walls so you can practice walking in the 4 inch heels you bought. Still in your baggy holey pants and Led Zeppelin t-shirt, you slip on the shoes and steady your stance. Jeremy leans against the window ten feet ahead of you, “Now walk towards me.” 

And with the grace of a baby giraffe learning to walk, you carefully and slowly make your way toward Jeremy as he studies you. Your ankles bending, knees wobbling, arms outstretched to the sides to keep balance you finally reach in front of him and trip. Jeremy catches you, “Again.” You spend the next two hours practicing to walk in those gold heels. Jeremy had you walk all around the apartment just to make sure you got use to it. 

You plop down on the couch and rip the shoes off your aching feet, massaging them you look up at Jeremy who sits down beside you, “Why do we have to wear those?” referring to the royal ‘we’. 

“Because some male inventor thought women would look better on stilts. I don’t know,” Jeremy mindlessly grabs one of your feet and pulls it up onto his lap, beginning to massage it, “I know wearing heels sucks but it makes your form more, I don’t know, curvy.”

“More curvy?” you arch your brow.   
“It changes the way you walk, your hips automatically sway side to side, your posture changes for the better. I can see the difference. It’s sexy.” 

Jeremy takes your other foot in his hand to massage, you watch his face. He is avoiding your stare. He’s acting different and you need to know why, “Why are you being so nice to me?” 

“I’m always nice to you.” 

“Bullshit.” 

He shrugs, “I don’t know. Maybe I feel sorry for you and excited for you at the same time.” 

“Gee, thanks,” you snatch your feet away and sit upright. 

Jeremy stands up and brings his hands together in a clap, “Tomorrow night’s the big night! Get some sleep, kiddo. I’ll be here before you leave to give you a once over, make sure you did a good job on dressing yourself and all that stuff.” He walks towards the door. 

“Hey,” you call out gently. 

He spins around to face you, “Yeah?” 

“Thanks, Jeremy,” giving him a small smile. 

He nods his head and smirks, walking towards the door, leaving you alone to worry about the next night. 

*****

It is 7pm, you meet Chris at Antonio’s in an hour from now. You didn’t get a wink of sleep all night but you are running on sheer adrenaline and caffeine. You haven’t been on a date in five years so this night is a big deal. Yes, tonight is going to be your night. At Jeremy’s suggestion, you went to get waxed ‘down there’, got your hair done at a salon (first in years as well) along with a manicure and pedicure earlier in the day. 

After your shower, you put on the new black bra Jeremy picked for you with matching thong. You slip on the gold slinky dress and heels and proceed to apply the makeup Jeremy brought you to practice with. You spent all day practicing how to apply a good smoky eye and cat eye by watching YouTube tutorials. You think you did a pretty good job on your makeup. As you spray on a perfume you had received as a gift from your brother 3 years ago that you never used before, a knock comes on your front door. You knew it was Jeremy to check up on you before your date so you left the door unlocked. 

You yell from your bedroom doorway, “IT’S OPEN! COME IN!” you duck back into your room. 

Jeremy opens the front door, entering, “Came to see how my little experiment is doing…” 

You step out of your room, shy, when Jeremy sees you. His eyes become soft and glisten as they gaze upon your beautiful form in shimmering gold. He is in absolute awe of you, his mouth open but no words. 

You hold your arm, a bit insecure, “How do I look?” 

“.......unbelievable,” he whispers. 

You smile, “Really? You mean it? I tried really hard…”

Jeremy stands in front of you with a smile, making his eyes crinkle, “You did good, kid...you look amazing.” He places a hand on each arm and gives you another look, shaking his head in disbelief, chuckling, “Chris will be the luckiest guy at Antonio’s, that’s for sure.” 

“I have you to thank for all this. I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.” You place a hesitant kiss on his cheek by his lips, surprising him. 

Jeremy clears his throat (as he does whenever he is nervous it seems) interrupting a tender moment, “Ah, don’t get all sentimental on me now.” He takes a step back, “Let’s get you into a cab.” 

Downstairs, Jeremy hails you a cab and opens the door for you. Closing it for you, Jeremy leans into the open window with a smile, “I’ll be at the bar down the block from the restaurant in case you need me.” 

“You really don’t have to do that, Jere.” 

“Okay, so it’s really for my sake. But I know you’ll do great,” he winks before standing straight and tapping the roof of the cab to drive.

He watches the cab drive you to your date, feeling like he just lost you. 

******

You approach the maitre d’s podum of Antonio’s, purse in hand, heart pounding through your chest, difficulty breathing. You give him a weary smile when the maitre d asks with a fake warmth, “How may I help you, madam?” 

“I am here to meet a friend. Chris,” those shaky words leave your throat. 

“Ah, yes. Mr. Evans has just arrived but a few moments ago. Follow me, please,” the maitre d guides you into the lavishly large dining area with a live band of violinists and a pianist. Sparkling diamond chandeliers hang low as candles adorn each table setting the romantic mood while you try not to trip and fall from your anxious knees knocking. You see a bearded man sitting alone at a middle table dressed in a blue suit and black tie when he looks up at you. It’s him. It’s the God from your online dating site. He stands up as you approach the table and smiles over at you. The maitre d pulls out your chair for you and leaves you two alone. You sit then Chris sits across the small table from you. 

Beaming, you can’t help but say while looking around, “This place is classy as fuck.” 

Chris clears his throat and smirks, “You can say that, yes. It’s nice to finally meet you, [Y/N].”

You smile politely, “Likewise,” then you pick up the menu, giving it a look through and instantly become intimidated, “Uuh….hm.” 

Chris, who is also looking through the menu, takes notice, “Is there a problem?”

“Uuuh, no. But I can’t help but realize that everything on this menu is super fancy...never been to such a fancy place before. What? No beer and chicken fingers?” you snort with a joke as you do when you’re most nervous. 

Chris’ eyes drain of excitement, looking back at the menu and he sighs before standing, “Would you pardon me? I must use the restroom.” 

“You need help in there?” you crack a bad joke a second time - you know it’s terrible but you can’t stop. 

He doesn’t find it funny, walking around you towards the men’s room. 

******

Chris has been in the bathroom for a half hour now, your battery is dying from you trying to pretend to keep busy. You hope he’s okay in there, maybe he has a case of bad diarrhea, you think to yourself. You decide to ask for help from the staff. You see the maitre d flying by your table when you grab his coat tail, “Excuse me, Jeeves, will you do me a favor and check on my date? He’s been in the men’s room for over a half hour now. I’m starting to worry he may be sick.” 

The snobbish maitre d frowns down at you, “Oh, dear. He isn’t in the bathroom, he left the restaurant a half hour ago. I’m sorry, I thought you knew.” And he takes off to another table. 

All color drains from your face as you begin to process the information that you have just been stood up by the hottest guy you’ve ever met in a crowded restaurant. 

Meanwhile, down the street at Lucky’s Bar & Grill, Jeremy sits at the bar with a cold beer in hand, listening to the jukebox play classic 70s rock. He looks up at the TV at a random baseball game playing when he hears a guy next to him talking to two women. How can he NOT hear the guy? He was being extremely loud and obnoxious. 

“...so I just had a nightmare of a date with this girl who was so classless, it was disturbing….” the guy tells the women.

Jeremy’s ears perk up as he continues to listen. 

“Just down the street at Antonio’s. She was a total dog. I could tell she wasn’t used to the finer things in life. It’s like someone took a homeless lady, painted her up and threw her at me. She was so desperate. So I just left her ass there, told her I was going to the bathroom. It’s been 45 minutes and the moron is still probably sitting there waiting for me. HAHAHAHA!” Chris laughs with the girls. 

Jeremy gets off his barstool and turns facing Chris’ back, he taps him on the broad shoulder. Chris turns around, perturbed, “Yeah?” 

“I couldn’t help but overhear the ‘hilarious’ story you were telling these ladies,” he smiles with anger. 

“Yeah? What of it?” 

“May I ask what this girl’s name was? Cause she sounds like someone I know.” 

“[Y/N] or something like that. I didn’t stick around long enough to care,” Chris shrugs. 

Jeremy puckers his lips and takes a swig from his bottle, “That’s what I thought.” Jeremy places his bottle back on the bar and sucker punches Chris in the chin causing him to stumble back into the jukebox, screeching the current record and playing a more appropriate song for what was about to happen: “Ballroom Blitz” by Sweet. 

Chris regains his posture, eyebrows narrowed over his blue eyes as he charges at Jeremy, spearing him against the bar. He grabs Jeremy’s shirt collar and raises his fist back getting ready to hit him in the face when the bar door gets kicked open, stopping everyone. 

You stand at the doorway, shoulders squared, chest heaving, teeth-clenching, fists balled at your sides. You point to Chris across the bar room, “YOU!” 

Jeremy takes this time to push Chris away and punch him in the eye. You stomp your way into the bar as you seethe with rage, pushing anyone in your way to get to Chris. A woman snaps at you, “What the Hell you fuckin’ bitch?!” She gets in your face and you punch her in the jaw, knocking her into her girlfriends who are screaming. One girlfriend jumped on your back, you flip her over onto the bar and slide her body down the bar, knocking every drink and peanut bowl over the place. A few men try to intervene in the men’s fist-fight but only get pummeled by either men. 

The bar door opens with a smiling Paul, takes one look at the melee and frowns with a head shake, “Not again, you guys,” he says before closing the door, leaving. 

Chris is grappling with Jeremy on the floor as you make your way closer to the gathering crowd around them two fighting. Chris pulls Jeremy to his feet and slugs him across the face, knocking him against the bar as you step in front of him. Chris looks down at you, a drop of blood at the corner of his perfect lips. He smiles, “Let’s face it, you never had a chance with me.” 

You give him a smug smile back and hop up quickly, head-butting him in the nose. Chris grabs his nose and falls to the floor with a yelp. Jeremy stands up, rushing to you. You turn to him with a small red mark on your forehead and pout, “I just failed at girling,” and pass out. 

Jeremy catches you mid-fall, flings you over his shoulder, “Let’s get you home.” 

*******

You wake up on your couch, head throbbing, an icepack on your forehead. You sit up quickly and a rush of pain overcomes you. You don’t notice your legs are on Jeremy’s lap until he speaks in a soothing voice, “Hey, hey, stay still. You hurt your head pretty bad.” 

You slowly sit up and see your gold dress on you, one strap broken and recall what transpired before. “Crap….” you grumble and let your head flop to the side of the sofa, hiding your face in embarrassment. 

Jeremy shifts his body to face you, your legs still on his lap. He gently takes your chin into his hand, “Look at me...you did nothing wrong, [Y/N]. That guy was a certifiable dickhead. This had nothing to do with you.” 

You pull your head away in defiance, “Nothing to do with me? That guy totally shat on everything I thought I did right. I mean, yeah, I could’ve been more lady-like in manners but I was nervous. He was extremely attractive! I only become nervous around extremely attractive men.” 

Jeremy tightens his lips and looks away feeling a little insecure, “Listen. You should never feel like shit when you’re with a guy that is suppose to be interested in you. You should always feel comfortable and secure whenever he’s around. Like you could be yourself around him, you don’t have to hide anything from him.” 

You roll your eyes, “Oh, yeah? I’ve been myself for 5 years and where has it gotten me? No friends, no dates, no action whatsoever. I don’t even think my vibrator wants to be my friend!” 

Jeremy shifts closer to your body, “Trust me when I say that men are intimidated by strong women like you. They don’t just approach you easily because they fear they won’t be able to measure up.” 

“You’re seriously going to sit here and lie to me? No man has ever proclaimed their interest in me because of the way I am. I get it now. I’m supposed to live a sad and lonely existence. I’ll start collecting cats in the morning.” You start to stand, but Jeremy holds your legs onto his lap, staring at you with a blank face. You tug your legs, “I’d like to go to bed now.” 

Jeremy shakes his head, “You can’t believe that.” 

You raise a brow, “That no man will ever like me? Sure I can. I just said it.” 

He brings his hand to rub the back of his neck and nervously chuckles, “I, uh, always kinda liked you.” 

You stare at him without blinking then furrow your brows, “Shut the fuck up and let me go to bed, Jere. It’s been a long night.” 

“It’s the truth, I did.”

“You don’t like me, Jeremy, you put up with me because you’re my brother’s best friend. There’s a difference.” 

“In fact, I don’t like you...I think….I think I fuckin’ love you,” he looks at you like a little boy with a crush. 

Stunned, your mouth opens as he continues to ramble on, “You are everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman: brains, sarcasm, hard-working, no nonsense, funny, sexy, and tough. Watching you grow up and knowing the person you really are was an amazing journey for me. You have become one of the most endearing and loyal people I’ve ever known. And being able to see your vulnerable side, letting me help you with this date and teaching you to be a more feminine version of yourself made me feel something I hadn’t felt before. I am comfortable around you and I can tell you’re comfortable around me, too. I...I don’t care what you wear or how you walk in heels. You’ve always been able to turn me on with just wearing a dingy old shirt and boxers. What I’m saying is, I like you just the way you are.” 

You finally close your mouth and take in this side of Jeremy you never knew existed. You push his arms off your legs and stand up in front of him, “Why did you keep this from me? Why did you watch me suffer for so long?!” 

Jeremy let his head drop in shame, “I don’t know..I was afraid of what you’d say.” 

You unzip the back of your dress and let it slink down to your feet, standing in your black lace bra and thong with a smirk as Jeremy looks up at you with lust in his eyes. 

You push his shoulders back so he’s leaning back against the sofa, you straddle his thighs, your breasts pushed up against his chin. You smile down as his hands lightly grab onto your hips, “Tell me something, Renner…” you flick your tongue on his earlobe, “how long have you wanted to fuck me?” 

A sly smile spreads on Jeremy’s lips as he bucks his hips up into your moist panties, his voice gruff and low, “Since you began working at the farm…” 

You gasp and giggle as you trail small sucking kissing down the side of his neck, “Really? That was three years ago.” 

His head back against the couch, his eyes closed, “Mm hm, I love it when a woman isn’t afraid to get all dirty, mud all over her body….so fuckin’ hot..” he bites your jaw line, making you squeal with excitement. 

You grind your core into his jeans and feel the heat from his erection, “I can feel how much you love it…” you place more sucking kisses on the other side of his neck and whisper, “What should we do now?” 

A deep laugh erupts from his chest and he shakes his head. 

“What’s so funny?” you ask with a smile. 

“Nah, nothing….you won’t do it…” he waves you off. 

“Do what? We’re gonna wind up naked and having sex so nothing is off the table at this point. So tell me!” 

Jeremy’s cheeks turn a shade of pink and looks away then back up at you, “My fantasy is to see you….dressed in MY t-shirt and boxers...it sounds stupid, I know but -” 

You right away hop off Jeremy’s lap and pull him off the sofa, guiding him into the bedroom. You push him back into the bed and order him, “Take off your clothes then get underneath my sheets. LETS GO!” 

Jeremy chuckles but does what you say. You spin around so that you’re not peeking and feel him throw his undershirt and boxers at your head. You pick it up and run to the bathroom. A few moments later, you enter the bedroom to Jeremy laying in bed on his side, completely naked underneath the silk sheets. You can see his dick tenting the sheet. He marvels at you standing by the bed in his white tank top and blue boxers. 

“Shit, babe. You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he holds out his hand for you to take. Before you sit on the bed, Jeremy whips the sheet off his body, exposing himself to you. His penis light purple, pre-cum glistening down his shaft. His voice dark, “Sit on it.” 

You bite your lip as you happily climb onto it, pushing the fabric of the boxers aside so he can have entrance into your hot wet hole. He helps you steady yourself as you slowly lower onto him but Jeremy grabs your hips and pulls you down hard, slapping your ass onto his abs. You let out a scream and he a long moan. You adjust yourself on him as he sits up and pulls his tank top off you, quickly unclasping your bra and flinging it across the room. “ I want to see these titties bounce.” 

You grab onto his shoulders for support as he grabs your face, finally kissing your mouth long and deep. His tongue tasting every space in your mouth, going so far back as to choke you with it’s length. You wrap your legs around his waist as he bounces you up and down onto his thick cock, the sound of your thighs smacking his thighs is driving him crazy. Every pound, every heavy breath, every drop of sweat across his forehead is bringing you closer to the edge. 

Through haggard breaths, Jeremy grunts, “I want to fuck you like this every Goddamn day….I want this tight pussy of yours on my mouth when I’m hungry….I want these tits in my face all the time...I want to see you use your vibrator every time I’m here…….I want to be yours and I want you to be mine…” 

Paul arrives at your front door holding a six pack and take out food and was about to knock on your door when he hears you scream in passion, “Fuck….Jeremy!” Quickly followed by Jeremy’s cry, “Aah, [Y/N]!”

Paul’s shoulders slouch in sadness, “Oh, man….” and he walks back down the steps and out of the building. 

You throw your head back as you scream Jeremy’s name, clenching your muscles around his wide shaft. Jeremy howls trying to hold back but pulls out and explodes all over your thighs and knee. You shiver and collapse onto his chest. Sweat matting his hair, he sighs and holds you close. 

He places a kiss on the top of your head, cheerfully asking, “How’s that headache?” 

“What headache?” you share a laugh. 

Jeremy’s hand rubs your bare back, “Sooooo...are we officially together now?” 

You play with the hair on his chest and pretend to think about it, “I would say so, yeah.” 

“Fuck yeah!” Jeremy fist pumps in victory, “Now we can have our first post-sex sleep!” 

You lift your head and place a kiss on his nose before getting off the bed. 

“Wait, where are you going? I needs to cuddles before I fall asleep,” he playfully pouts at you. 

“I will, I need to use the bathroom first,” you reassure him.  
“Don’t take too long,” he yawns as you scurry away. 

In the bathroom, you look on the floor at the dirty laundry pile. You pick up the pair of your ex’s boxers and dingy old t-shirt you wear all the time. You look at it one last time before throwing it in the trash bin. You walk back into your bedroom with an already sleeping Jeremy and climb over him. With his eyes closed, he pulls you into his side and kisses your head, “I love ya, kid.” 

You smile as a happy tear drops from your eye, “I love you, too, Jere.”


End file.
